A Loving Consequence
by LumBabsFan
Summary: Book II of my Lumiere & Babette trilogy. The spell has been over for one year. As our couple's future begins, Babette's past returns to haunt her, and with it, the entire household could be in jeopardy.
1. Prologue: From Days of Old

_Prologue: From the Days of Old_

Rain or harsh projectiles, no one could truly tell the difference. The vicar's monotonous drawling made time seemingly stand still as the remaining de Crochet family and a few onlookers attempted to stay awake. The old madame had at last moved on, and from the faces gathered, it was difficult to determine if this was a funeral or joyous event.

As the coffin was eventually lowered into the grave, Jacques, the lady's eldest, and his younger sister, Adele, battled expressions of relief, hiding them under false tears. Madame de Crochet had the reputation of a woman to avoid at all costs, thus there were no friends or family. They were the closest, by blood not choice, and only the bribe of higher pay brought the servants to make the crowd larger.

"May she rest in peace in the Lord's heaven above, amen."

The crowd dispersed soon after, returning to the manor hoping to receive their pay soon enough as Jacques followed, Adele close behind. The tall, dark haired son of the deceased had a plotting look haunting his eyes, Adele recognized. The one thing he had inherited from their mother was her cunning nature that could be used for any and every purpose.

"You are thinking again, I see," the small woman murmured.

"Just continuing to do so," he replied, "Been thinking ever since the old hag passed on yesterday."

As they approached the door, he stood on the highest step and surveyed the land. "At last, this is all mine...thought she would never go. Everything now belongs to me...every bit of her property."

"Except her jewels and dresses; you would look rather foolish in them," Adele interrupted mockingly, but at her brother's scowl, she hushed her words.

"Everything...except those...and something else we lost a few years ago."

"What do you mean?"

"A servant...one that truly belonged to you."

Much as she tried, Adele shrugged, not coming to a conclusion. "You leave me clueless, mon frère."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Jacques growled tauntingly. "It was not Mother's place to dismiss the girl when she was your servant." A look of longing drifted into his eyes, needy and possessive. "She did not have the right to get rid of her."

"Oh...you mean...?" Adele giggled in a teasing manner. "Your one and only? To hell with me, you want her back for yourself."

Jacques snarled, dragging her inside and cornering her aggressively. "That is going to be the story when we go after her, comprends? If you ruin this in any way...I do not care if you are my sister or not...neither judge nor jury will be able to spare you."

Adele nodded in cowardice. "But...you do not even know where she is..."

"We will find out soon enough; she could not have gone far. Hardly knew enough of anything to become more than what she was. We simply find out where she is, if she is even still alive, and bring her back. Anyone who stands in the way..."

Adele shivered, cringing as Jacques need not finish his thought. "But...what if she does not wish to come back home?"

"She is a servant, raised among our own; it does not matter what she wants. She was taught to remember that her very breath belongs to her rightful owners. As she was your maid, and you did not dismiss her, she is still your property. Now to bed with you; we begin tomorrow." Watching her leave, Jacques turned his attentions to the window and weather beyond. "Very soon, Babette...we shall be together again..."


	2. Chapter One: Rise and Shine

_Chapter One: Rise and Shine_

It was a glorious dream, much sweeter as everyone knew it had been reality. For the first in the longest time, they felt alive, real...human!

Moments before the castle servants had felt the transformation consume them. All seemed lost as the human spirit dissolved from within, frankly leaving them for dead. It was over...but only for a little while.

The true magic words rang through the castle in an echo..."I love you." The final part of the enchantress' demands had been met; the girl was able to love the master in return. As he regained the spirit, so did the entire household, and in swirls and bursts of magic, everything was as it was before.

Moving to the ballroom, all the while hearing a grand mix of merry tears and laughter, the Frenchman, like everyone, marveled as he and the others took their first steps back into the human world. It truly had been nothing short of a miracle, he thought. In a place where darkness and selfishness had reigned for years, love in every form once again conquered all.

The master and his lady, the woman who had seen the beauty within and undoubtedly saved their lives.

His friend and superior in the corner, engaging in a rather close conversation with the lady in waiting; why did he not see that one coming?

On the opposite end, a mother dropped to her knee to meet her son's embrace. She had not cared for herself during the spell, only her child, and she rejoiced seeing him run the halls once more.

As for himself, his eyes roamed the room looking for his own love. Over the course of the spell he had barely succeeded in clutching the memory of her human features, and now trying to piece it together, he looked for a sign of her presence...

"Bonjour, handsome..." The whisper came from behind, and he turned to find her, just as he remembered, if not certainly more beautiful.

As usual, his heart raced faster than his words. "You...you look so much better...I mean...I liked you before...but..."

She ambled alluringly closer, the sway of her walk, her grin more charmingly attractive with each step...

"Believe me...I like you better this way too..."

He would have thought himself under the spell again, but recalled the feeling of flaming blood was normal for humans also. He reached for her...she whispered his name...the bell tolled...

---------

"Lumière!" shouted a louder, male tone strongly as the man himself wearily opened his eyes. He gave his head a shake to wake himself up, and looked at the clock on his side table, even having heard the human one outside his door.

Groaning groggily, Lumière rose and quickly changed into decent attire before meeting his colleague, Cogsworth, the head of the household and former clock, in the hallway. "It is far too early for your incessant shouts of 'arise from your slumbers!"

The stout Englishman responded, "Sweet dreams then?"

"They would have been if not for you."

"Dreams are all well and good, but there is too much work to do. For now, it is time to seize the day! The Summer Celebration cannot plan itself you know."

Lumière could not understand how the man could be in such a good mood so early in the morning. "Do you sleep...ever? Do you even know what the word means?"

"Of course I do," Cogsworth replied, not catching the sarcasm although returning it in full force. "Early to bed and early to rise as the saying goes."

Lumière shook his head. "You _are_ insane," he said simply, turning to head in the opposite direction.

Cogsworth looked back confused. "Where are you going? The hall is this way!"

"Things to do, people to see! I will be right down."

---------

Counting the doors quickly and quietly, Lumière stopped as he found the one he was looking for and knocked. No answer. He knocked a little louder, this time opening it a little.

"Ma cherie?" he whispered as he tiptoed inside. "Are you awake yet?"

The answer came in the form of a quiet sigh from further inside the room, and he entered silently, closing the door softly and shifting to where _she_ slept. The castle's maid, Babette, the light of his life; he smiled a little, thinking back over time. She swept into his life what had seemed an eternity ago. Before the enchantment, they spent the year squabbling, bickering, and teasing each other, both not ready to admit how much each sincerely cared until the night that started the madness. He had held her close in the stable lofts, wanting to protect her from every threat, but moments later finding that he had failed instantly as they were taken into the first phase of their object forms.

Thankfully, that was all over now, and he knelt at her bedside. He brushed away a lax lock that had escaped the loose braid she had tied together before going to sleep, and gazed at her precious face. Ah the features that had transfigured her from a pretty girl he found adorable to a mature woman that intrigued him to no end. Her presently closed eyes that when opened had the most stimulating, mysterious look about them as they hid coyly beneath her lashes. The soft cheek he would nuzzle, adoring the smoothness as he caressed it affectionately. But none compared to her lips, almost naturally red even without any touches of lip rouge. Such a lush feeling radiated from them when they kissed making every moment pleasurable...

"We draw the line at the door, monsieur...I've always told you when I am ready for you to be so close, you would be the first to know."

Lumière, although he drew away instantly at her sudden words, smirked as he sat beside her. "You cut me to the wick, ma plumette; I try to be kind and wake you much more pleasantly over the human pocket watch's shouts and hollers, and you repay my thoughtfulness with such ruthless accusations? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Babette opened her eyes, blinking a little as the sun poured into her room through the thin curtains. As she sat upright, her hands slinked up his arms as she slipped her own around him. "I say, first, merci le Dieu that it was you so I could wake up agreeably, and second...go away while I change."

"Mmm, and I was very much looking forward to that part," he laughed, pulling away to avoid her scarcely hurtful smack of reprisal.

Yet she shrugged nonchalantly as she reached for a wrap to cover her shoulders. "Perhaps someday..."

He couldn't resist against a shiver that flew over him. "Don't tease..."

Babette flashed a mirror image of his own infamous smirk. "Who said I was?"

"You are the cruelest of women, amourette."

"I only learned from the best, namely you," she smiled before she ceased her playing. "But seriously go. La Celébration d'été, the last important gathering of the summer is this afternoon, and one kiss says you have not even started to help get things ready."

Lumière moved to join her, his blood simmering slowly to a boil as he got closer. "Then I suggest you accept your victory in that bet, mon amour..."

Babette held her hands out to stop him from getting any closer. "Vous contrôler, mon cher. You must help them first, for me if not anyone else. If you don't, you will hear every lecture in Cogsworth's book, and if that happens, the mood will be ruined, n'est-ce pas?"

He took a deep breath. "I'll have you know that I hate it when you are right."

She stroked his hair in the manner of a mother to her child, coaxing, "I know you do, but we will have our time together soon enough."

"Promise?"

"I swear it; now go on."

Reluctantly, he started to pull away, but looked at her longingly. "What about just a small kiss? For being so nice in waking you?" As he sensed a negative answer, he added very sweetly. "Please?"

With a great sigh, she smiled gently. "Now who could resist that?"

"Hopefully not you."

She drew close, a smug grin playing at her lips. "But of course, I can not."

Drawing her close, he crooned eagerly, "Ma plumette..."

"Mon cher..."

"Are you two QUITE finished now?!" One would figure that being a former clock, Cogsworth would have had better timing as his voice boomed from the other side of the door. "We DO have quite a bit of work to do for the party, you know!"

Babette sighed, "Told you."

Lumière growled, "That miserable old..." A nudge of Babette's elbow stopped his words immediately. Cogsworth had impeccable hearing, and at present, it was best not to provoke the second in command. "Very well, I suffer for you and you alone." He waited a second longer only to take her hand in a fervent kiss. "Thus, until later it is..."

TBC...


	3. Chapter Two: Foe and Friend

_Chapter Two: Foe and Friend_

For the most part, the castle was rather silent that morning. There was hardly any time for chatter and gossip as the preparations for the celebration unfurled in every room. Even the mischievous cat, Stitches, who normally found fun in squabbling with Sultan the dog simply took her lazy time sulking about the halls, avoiding everyone's feet as they ran by, missing her by meager inches. Seeking safety, however, she jumped at the first open door she could find, the ballroom.

Inside, many were gathered cleaning and putting up decorations simultaneously to save time, and that is where something caught the cat's hazel eyes...something fluttery...birdlike...feathery...

Slowly, she crept without a sound towards it as it glided across the fireplace mantle. The closer she came the faster she went until she finally took two flying leaps from a nearby chair to the mantle itself to pounce. Babette shrieked at the unexpected attack and as Stitches did not back down from her trying to shake her from the duster, she reached down to grab her shoe and took aim. Thankfully, that was enough to ward off the frightened cat, who fled with a hiss.

As the shoe was returned to her foot, Babette growled frustrated, absent-mindedly holding the duster close as if to comfort it. She could not stand cats, not since the spell. Even as a pillow, Stitches found some way or another to bother her, and having been a feather duster herself, she knew the frightening results. No one could convince her otherwise that although Stitches had no claws or teeth at the time, she still managed to give her a few bruises.

"A cat running away in fear; I knew it had to be you."

Babette turned back to the fireplace immediately to find Angelique, the castle's decorator for events hosted by the master and mistress. "Well, well, look who has finally returned home, the devil in disguise; took you long enough after trying to make such a reputation for yourself all over France."

"Such names already, oh maid of _dis_honor, rephrasing the title you held at the wedding last year?"

"Oh go hang on a tree."

"Cleaning lady."

"Harlot!"

"Wench!"

Babette's eyes instantly scorched right into her, ready to kill if need be...until they both laughed and embraced like old friends. "Mon Dieu, I missed you; it wasn't nearly as much fun around here."

Angelique sneered lightheartedly. "Says she who can get any man she needs even though she has the one she wants."

"One of the few intelligent things I have heard you say," the maid laughed.

Angelique pouted, almost genuinely upset. "Well I thought we had finished the hellos."

"Je suis désolé, mon amie; that was the last one I promise."

"Très bien," Angelique teasingly dangled a folded piece of paper in front of her face. "I would not want to keep this for myself out of spite...well that is not true, but you know what I mean."

Babette reached for it quickly. "Merci le Dieu, I've been waiting for this...give it to me!" By the third reach, she had grabbed it, turning to read as privately as she could, surprisingly having to shove Angelique away only once. The bottom right corner was burned slightly, she noticed with a grin. There was no need to sign his notes anymore; that was all Lumière had to do for her to know it was from him.

_Ma plumette, I have just received glorious news. For one celebration, we shall not be servants, but guests. The very moment when dinner ends, the master has ordered that we enjoy ourselves for once. (I almost feel horrible for Cogsworth, as he seems very lost at the thought.) While I cannot speak for you, I certainly intend to obey the master's orders, and highly doubt you would disagree. Until tonight, I suffer each hour in such torturous agony thinking of that kiss you still owe me, and how much sweeter it will be this evening under the stars. My one, my only, I shall see you then._

With a distant, unconscious smile, Babette folded the letter again, putting it into her apron pocket, and not noticing as Angelique smirked teasingly.

"You seem intent on enjoying yourself tonight..."

"Indeed, I do."

"Anything...particularly special?"

Babette grinned coyly. "You know I never kiss and tell." Lowering her voice the slightest bit more, she added, "Please just relay the reply that I will meet him, will you?"

Angelique heaved a highly sarcastic sigh. "That is it! I am going to begin charging for messenger services if this continues!"

She did not hesitate to run, however, as Babette chased her from the room just as she had done to Stitches, with the almighty lethal shoe.


	4. Chapter Three: Night of Nights

_Chapter Three: Night of Nights _

Despite a wretched heat wave that had blazed over the Chateau Mountains that day, the celebration was, as always, a success. There was simply too much joy and laughter to take in the fact that the weather had risen so drastically, and no one felt it necessary to be bothered by such a minor nuisance. Not since the recent birth of Alexandre, the son of their crown prince Vincent and his princess Belle had there ever been such merriment and happiness, and hence, the weather was of little concern.

The festivities lasted late into the night, but the final hours did not mean the end of the night's pleasures for all. Deep in the woods, a flickering light shone through the densely grown shrubs and branches, and there beyond them, Lumière waited silently.

"Looking for someone?"

Why he jumped nervously, as Babette constantly attempted to startle him, he would never be able to explain. She was talented at anything she set her mind to.

"Until now," he replied, reaching for the hands she readily offered him. "You do indeed know how to keep a man in eager suspense."

"Only to make the few moments we have more rewarding."

"Few?" he mused. "While the idea is rather dreamy, our love is anything but forbidden."

Babette pouted. "True, but how many times have we ever been entirely alone?"

Lumière held her, caressing her shoulder gently. "You have but to send for me, you know that."

"It is not enough."

"It is too," he grinned, savoring her hand before continuing to explore familiar territory along her arm. "You, mon amourette, are just insatiable."

She giggled under her breath. "Takes one to know one."

"It is your fault, you know," he muttered, relieved as he reached the base of her throat. Most women wore dresses to cover that precious area extensively; thankfully she was not one of them. "I can not help the fact that you are enticing as well."

She felt all coherent thoughts disperse as he finally met his lips to hers, making one last mental note to tease him for not asking to claim his long awaited kiss first. On the other hand, he had been quite patient all day; this one time, she would purposely forget to scold him as he allowed her a breath.

"I...I think..." It took all of her strength to stutter out the smallest words. "Actually...I do not think..."

"You are right. Do not think," he suggested, attempting to continue the kiss. "Not now..."

Babette literally forced herself away, but quickly looked into his eyes reassuring the silent worry that he had not done anything wrong. Biting her lip in thought—and offering her hand to keep his hungered lips busy—she whispered ardently, "Well...I was...simply thinking...that such a time as this is meant for the indoors...alone."

Lumière's gaze had never met hers so quickly. "Quoi?"

Babette pulled herself closer. "I...told you. You would be the first to know when I wanted to be...close to you." She smiled, passion and tenderness blending in her eyes. "I...have been thinking about it all day, and...I am ready."

-------

Hooves pounded the earth as a rider atop a powerful stallion bolted for the village near the Chateau Mountains. Fortune being with him this night, he pulled the massive horse to a halt outside the local inn, and knocked on the back door.

Pierre, the innkeeper, permitted him entry and led him to a quiet room. The rider could not help but shiver as he followed; every person who frequented this inn knew it was anything but a noiseless place. The hush was eerily unnatural.

Once the door locked, both men sat at the small table joined by a stranger.

The unknown man was the first to make any movement, placing small money purses before Pierre and the rider.

"As promised for allowing us this room," he said to the innkeeper, before addressing the rider. "Should you prove useful to me...we shall see about a possible increase."

While Pierre was a greedy man, immediately counting his earnings, the rider glared at the stranger. "All this trouble for a royal..."

"Not a royal, but one that can have your head on a silver tray if I ordered it, thus you will find yourself in a more pleasant situation if you hold your tongue." Once the rider was unwilling silenced, he continued. "You are from the mountain region, oui?"

"Oui, monsieur. Arnaud, captain of the palace guard."

The man's identity truly meant nothing to the stranger, but he nodded. "How long have you served there?"

"Quite a time..."

"Five, perhaps ten years?"

"Much more."

"Then you have quite a knowledge of every person that resides there."

Arnaud's patience with this man was lowering by the second. "What is the reason for such interrogations?"

The stranger had the most peculiar smile, intelligent but seemingly...sinister. "Something, or someone, was wrongly taken from me; evidence and stories point to the conclusion that she currently serves your master and mistress."

"What has that to do with me?"

"Well," the stranger leaned forward in a secretive manner. "Locals informed me that when they need to...take care of any business, particularly that which your master should not know of, you were the most reliable at finishing the task. You pull through, and most importantly, never get caught."

Arnaud slowly took on the same expression. "So to speak; it depends. What service have you need of?"

"The need to reclaim what is mine."

The captain nodded after a moment. "Two conditions first. Who exactly 'belongs' to you and how much is this person worth as payment for my services?"

"There is no value high enough for this woman, but we shall discuss your reward in good time. Bring me every bit of information concerning her periodically until the time is right. That is all you have to do at present."

"That still does not tell me who she is."

"She would be a maid; it is the only career she has ever known. Her name is Babette."

Both Arnaud and Pierre responded with silence before breaking into separate reactions. Pierre narrowed his eyes at the wall, and Arnaud burst into hysterical laughter.

"That little tramp belongs to you?" he asked once he could breathe. "Is there any man she does not belong to?"

The stranger sat there unaffected, although it was visible in his eyes that his patience was dropping and anger rising. "Nevertheless, her true custody is to that of my sister and myself. Either get me what I want, Monsieur Arnaud, or I can take my business elsewhere. That is, only after watching you take this conversation to the fast coming grave."

Arnaud snorted one last laugh. "Very...very well. Anything you wish to know, you will."

He nodded, then gestured his dismissal to which Pierre hurriedly showed him the door. When the tubby little man returned, the stranger silently locked the door behind him.

As Pierre took a rag to the table habitually, he shoved his reward into his pocket, his back to the man. "You have been most gracious, monsieur. Shall I...be of any more assistance?"

The stranger stalked closer. "As...'kind' as you have been, mon ami...I must say that you have unfortunately seen so much more than you should have."

A few moments later, Jacques exited the room alone, a money purse in his hand and Pierre on the ground behind him, his stingy, money ravenous blood staining the floor.

--------

Babette bolted awake in bed, breathing heavily as visions of foreboding dread, fearful memories of the past, hazily drifted from her vivid imagination. Lying back down, she put the nightmare far from her thoughts as she glanced around the room to remind herself that she was safe.

Despite the effort not to wake him, Lumière dazedly rose from his own sweet slumber as she snuggled cozily into his arms.

"Are you all right?"

Babette muttered a curse under her breath; the last thing she wanted was to answer questions.

"Cursing is not very ladylike, ma plumette."

"After tonight, neither am I."

Lumière laughed gently. Tugging her close, he planted a kiss on her forehead affectionately. "You dare to insult me like that? You, my temptress, lure me here, and then suggest that I am making you a loose woman?"

"More or less," she smirked. "You, however, have done everything to make this night—pardon the word—ravishing that you have completely exhausted me."

"Still you injure me by choosing sleep as your preferred lover; what am I to do with you?"

Babette kissed him gently. "You will forgive me?"

Lumière smiled warmly. "Always. Get some rest now; we shall see each other again in the morning."

Sure enough, he had barely completed the sentence as she obeyed. With her horrors departed, Babette prayed the morning never arrive to ruin such a breathtaking night.


	5. Chapter Four: The Future Begins

_Chapter Four: The Future Begins_

As it usually does, time slipped by as slowly or hurriedly as it saw fit around the region. Before anyone realized, the summer had long become the fall as November hovered above the Chateau Mountains, unfortunately not bearing good tidings.

The West Wing thundered with rage that afternoon; not since the spell had anyone been so frightened to step foot there.

"I can not believe this!" Vincent crashed his letter onto the table, thanking the Lord his hand was once more the size of a human, not a monster. The newly carved bit of furniture would have shattered into splinters under the force of the beast's hand.

"What is this uproar about?" He turned to find Belle in the doorway. "I barely managed to leave Alexandre to his nap; thankfully he sleeps just as heavily as you do, to the point where a storm would not wake him."

"You had to put him to sleep?" Vincent asked confused. "Where is Babette?"

Belle shook her head. Since Alexandre was born, she had requested that Babette help her care for him; as Cogsworth has said, perhaps it would settle the maid's sometimes outlandish personality.

"She has not been feeling well the past few weeks," she replied. "I know she has been to the doctor, but she claims he said that it is just influenza. Poor Lumière is bordering on insanity worrying about her."

Vincent sighed ruefully. "Then I certainly will not help to make either one feel better."

"What do you mean?"

He handed her the crushed letter, explaining as he watched her read it. "The word is spreading about what happened here a year ago. While half of my family refuses to believe it, the other half, the half we should be concerned about most, has decided to act upon it."

Belle looked troubled but thankfully not afraid. "How?"

"Unless I can prove my capabilities and knowledge of ruling has not changed," His eyes battled anger and dread. "They will force me to relinquish the crown."

Belle, ever the optimist that he needed, took his hand in comfort. "You have nothing to fear then. Don't they realize that you have survived an entire year without them? You are nothing like what you were before, Vincent; as we both know, you have changed so much for the better."

"I have, perhaps...they have not. The majority of my family still thinks the way I used to. The slightest thing will cause chaos in their eyes." Vincent sat down tiredly, his head resting on his folded hands. "They feel they have to 'observe' everything that goes on here and make their decision then. Pathetic as it sounds, I truly do not know what to do. I can not go back to what I was, but can not risk everything if they see anything they deem inexcusable."

Belle hugged him close. "Then we will just have to show them that the new you is just as strong and able as you were then, without going back to how things were."

Vincent returned the hold she had on him. She always knew what to say and do in times like this. With her at his side, he felt he could do anything, and for that, he loved her even more. "I am still going to attempt to fight this, however; I'll take Cogsworth and Lumière with me, for sanity if not support. The sooner we go, the better."

Belle nodded. "You do what you think you must; either way, you know I will stand by whatever you choose."

With that being said, the prince rose as if with newfound strength, sending for his servants and ordering them to pack as soon as they answered.

"We leave this evening."

-------

Babette could barely open her eyes when she wearily awoke. Forcing herself up, she groaned, feeling the heavy pang of pain still ruining her comfort by making its own, but nonetheless fighting it to get out of bed. She had work to do, even if she was miserable.

Good God, why was it still so difficult to move? Normally by this time, she had felt somewhat normal again. Was she really pushing herself too much?

Oh to hell with it, she thought with a moan having laced her dress to completion. Lying in bed was boring, and she could not stand another minute of it.

Half conscious to what she was doing, it was hard to believe that she recognized Angelique's voice beside her.

"Mon Dieu, thank goodness he is not here to see you now," she said. "He would either worry himself into a frenzy, or run in horror."

"Not...now," Babette felt her lips murmur. "I...have to work."

"You can not be serious; you can scarcely talk properly!"

Babette literally threw herself around to look at her, and as expected, collapsed the second she did. Lying on the ground in pain, she burst into tears. "I...I can't...don't make me go back to bed...I...can work...honest..."

But much as she pleaded, everything faded to darkness, proving that she could not; the last thing she remembered hearing above her cries was Angelique calling for help.

-------

Joined by Belle, Mrs. Potts, the housekeeper, and Madame de la Grande Bouche, Belle's Lady-in-Waiting, Angelique paced the hall anxiously. The doctor had been in there much too long than the girl's patience could withstand.

"What is taking so long?" she growled. "Unconsciousness can not have _that_ many explanations."

"Sit down, dear," Mrs. Potts ordered gently to which she obeyed. "I've known the doctor for quite a long time; he knows what he is doing."

"Indeed," Madame agreed, although just as nervous as Angelique, for it was taking longer than they would have thought. She continued, attempting to sound convinced, "He must be making absolutely certain he knows what is wrong."

Angelique glared at the door, unable to keep still. "Educated idiot if you ask me; probably wants to make a pretty penny for a lengthy examination."

"Not necessarily true."

The group looked up as the doctor exited, closing the door silently behind him. Angelique, however, did not show the slightest hint of an apology.

"Please forgive her, monsieur," Belle offered kindly. "She is worried as we all are. Is Babette all right?"

"She will be fine. I warned her not to overwork herself too much for a woman of her state, and now she knows why."

Mrs. Potts smiled, relieved and amused. "You do not know her as well as we do then, sir. Babette can not stand boredom and, hence, seldom takes such orders."

The doctor shook his head in disgust. "But in her condition, it is not acceptable. She will only get worse if she does not take things slowly."

Madame nodded in agreement. "We have tried to tell her the same thing, but she would hear nothing of it. Influenza can knock the brains right out of you to begin with, but forcing her body to work does not help."

The doctor looked bewildered. "She told you it was influenza?" When they all nodded, the man ran his hand over his face in annoyance, and turned to Belle. "My dear lady, if I were you, I would dismiss the little wretch, and as soon as possible. A loose, deceitful liar amongst the staff not only sets the wrong example, but certainly is not safe or secure for either you or the master."

Angelique jumped from where she sat. "Call her such names again and—I do not care who you are!—I will beat you so horribly, you will not be able to sit for a year! No one in this castle calls her anything of that kind but me!"

The doctor hardly took notice of the outburst. "And while you are at it, do something about this one as well."

She may not have been raised in royalty, but Belle's sense of authority could have fooled anyone who did not know of her provincial life before marriage. "Monsieur, I do indeed side with Angelique on your accusations. Babette is anything but a liar, and on her behalf, I demand an apology."

The man stood his ground, not with defiance, but confidence in his allegations. "While she may not be on a daily basis then, your majesty, she has covered the truth in the worst way this once. Serious as it is, if treated properly, influenza would have been cured by now."

"Doctor, please state your point; what is wrong with her?"

He grew quiet, disturbed at what he had to say. "Your highness...she does not have influenza. The girl...is pregnant."


	6. Chapter Five: High Flying Emotions

_Chapter Five: High Flying Emotions_

If the weather was ever an omen, Vincent prayed it was wrong as he rode through the bustling city of the north where he was expected that day.

"Do not panic…this meeting only determines the fate of us all, no pressure…"

Although he heard Cogsworth muttering to himself from behind, the prince could not help but grin the slightest smile. Much as the man's negativity could throw anyone into a sense of despair, in the most unusual way, it gave him a comfortable sense of normality. A reassurance in the most odd definition of the word, and of course hearing the resounding "Ouch!", courtesy of Lumière's hand making harsh contact with the backside of Cogsworth's head, topped everything off.

"I am going to tell you this only once, in the nicest possible way…" Lumière hissed quietly. "Kindly think of the master's feelings before your own and _shut up_!"

Cogsworth glared at him. "Oh yes, very kind indeed! How about sharing that kindness when we arrive, hmm? I am sure his uncle would agree that things have been nothing but well after hearing it!"

"That is enough," Vincent silenced them, knowing a scuffle would break loose if he did not put an end to their discussion. For they had arrived at their destination, and the last thing any of them needed was a horrible black eye. "Please, be on your best behavior."

"But that was his best behavior; it does not get any better than that," Cogsworth whispered almost childishly under his breath. After getting one more look from both men, however, they left the horses with the stable boy and entered the snake pit, otherwise known as his uncle's palace.

Vincent took a deep breath as he walked through the hallways. Although he had friends at his side ready to stand by him, he had never felt more nervous and alone. Cogsworth had been right before; this meeting held everyone's fate in its hands. What would truly happen if he could not "prove himself" today?

"The crown prince, Monseigneur, and…his servants."

Across the large sitting room, a man he recognized as his uncle Auguste turned to his guests. He was an older man, rather tall with aging gray hair, although it still had signs of its original dark color.

"Vincent…" He rose from his seat, moving to inspect him. Inspection, a royal's greeting, the prince thought bitterly as he stood tall with the only authority that rivaled his uncle. "At least you look better than many have described…"

"Looks are not the key to the mind."

Auguste laughed amused. "Well you would say that now, wouldn't you? I mean considering all you have been through, the…illness, so to speak."

"That is what you think it was?" Vincent challenged, the battle rising sooner than he expected.

"Of course, what would you call it?"

"More like a lesson, one that would have done us all some good."

"A lesson? Really now…?" If he would not risk missing words to use against him, Vincent would have started ignoring him right there, for that tone was all too familiar. "Could you possibly conceive the lies and explanations I have given to cover the scandal? That is not a lesson, it is dishonor."

It was Vincent's turn to laugh. "In that case, I am honored that you simply did not banish me from the family and convince everyone I was dead."

"Hold your tongue, boy," he threatened. "I do not know what that witch's magic trick did to your mind, but if it is still of any good use to you, it should know to think before permitting you to speak."

"Oh trust me, it did."

Auguste's eyes burned straight into his as both grew serious. "Do you truly have any idea what this has done to you? To our family's honor and reputation? Everyone, from the aristocracy to the scum of the streets, knows now that their crowned prince was turned into a monster, and more importantly, that the event has softened him. That alone is a great danger to us."

After ordering Cogsworth and Lumière out to the hall, Vincent waited for the door to close before he spoke. "You have no idea what the real meaning of the curse was, or do you truly not care? If anything, it has done nothing but good to our family's name. How I live my life now is how I should have years ago!"

"You can not gain respect from these people without a firm hand!"

"Respect is not a demand, it is a privilege! You have to earn it! A firm hand is worthless without the guidance of a good heart!"

"Kindness is nothing but a weakness! If you show them that, they will only take advantage of you!"

Vincent growled in anger and threw his fist into a chair, sending it down hard. "And _this _does everything?!" He held his fist directly in front of the man's eyes. "This is all one needs?! A tool of fear and intimidation?!" Grabbing Auguste's collar roughly, he continued silently. "Then I choose to use it now. You will not take advantage of me as you accuse harmless people of doing. You will allow me to continue my father's reign as it is rightfully mine whether you approve or not." Vincent then roughly released him, causing him to fall into another chair. "Is that what you meant?"

Auguste looked up at him, trying to appear void of any negative emotion. "More or less…"

"Then you will leave me be to do as I will?"

"Not quite," he replied quickly as he stood a bit shakily. "You are my brother's son in terms of knowing what to do to get what you want. You have placed your demands before me, and I am willing to oblige on one condition. If you can prove yourself under a watchful eye of my choosing, I will never be a bother to you again. For the sake of our family's honor, prove that you can keep order under this new creed of yours."

Vincent shook his head in disgust. "While this is beyond ridiculous, if it is what it takes, I will do as you ask."

As his uncle nodded and took his hand in agreement, the door opened across the room, allowing another man entry.

"I apologize, Monseigneur; forgive my tardiness," he said with a bow.

"Nothing to forgive," Auguste nodded. "You are actually just in time." He gestured to the prince. "This is Vincent, my nephew, crowned prince from the Chateau Mountains."

The man bowed deeply again. "Honored, your highness."

When Vincent said nothing in reply, Auguste continued. "This is my "watchful eye" of choice; he is the most trusted of men in this city, and will report everything to me."

Vincent sighed in frustration as he felt like nothing more than a child, but he was raised a prince, taught to do what he must for the family.

"Very well," he replied. Turning to the man, he nodded. "We leave in the morning, bright and early at dawn."

"As you wish, of course."

"And your name? We must have something to call you."

"de Crochet, your highness…Jacques de Crochet."

-------

Babette stirred with a groan, opening her eyes slowly. With her head feeling as though it was splitting in half, she sat up cautiously, hiding her face in her hands to block out even the light of a candle's flame.

"Have a good sleep?"

Glancing to her left, she saw Angelique seated in the chair by her bedside table.

"What happened?" she said slowly, her voice hoarse and strained.

"You fell unconscious, thus you did not miss much. We sent for the doctor, though, and he came right away."

Babette's eyes had never changed sentiments so quickly. "It was just from overworking; why did you bring the doctor into it?"

Angelique offered a sarcastic thoughtful expression to match her words. "Oh, I don't know. To make positively certain that you are all right as you did take quite a fall…or perhaps to find out that you were lying to us?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Angelique held up her hands to stop her from continuing. "We know about the baby. He told us the truth, but I think you could have done that yourself."

Babette's eyes shot daggers at her. "The truth was not necessarily something I wanted to brag about."

Ignoring the look, Angelique continued in her previous manner. "Not brag about your sudden little bundle of joy resulting from the most romantic night of your life? That alone puts you above all other women here!"

"I did not plan want this, nor did I plan it!"

Angelique bit her tongue hard to suppress any thoughts that would follow that comment; she was stubborn, not cruel. Attempting to calm herself, she spoke gently. "How long did you know?"

Babette absently pulled her pillow close and wrapped herself in her blanket. "Since the beginning of this month…" If anything moved Angelique to feel pity for her, it was the sight of her then, in that single frame of time, tense and terrified. It was much like a child who sensed punishment. "I just…could not bring myself to tell anyone."

Angelique sighed, sitting next to her friend, hugging her close around the shoulders. "Did you really think we would never find out? You could only hide it for so long, then what would you have done?"

Babette swallowed guiltily, and stuttered, having remembered her first thoughts. "I…I considered…maybe not allowing things to get that far…but…" She hid her face in her hands again, this time letting tears flow freely. "Mon Dieu, I swear I'll be damned for this!" She looked up, her eyes already red if only after a few moments. "I am going to be sent away, yes? Hidden until it is over, and they wanted you to tell me?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Angelique replied, finally concerned only with consoling her.

"Then what are they going to do?"

"The master has not returned yet, and hence neither has he…"

She had not even mentioned his name when Babette's eyes widened anxiously. "Lumière…no. He can't know about this! He can't!"

"Again, I highly doubt that you will be able to hide it much longer…but think about this. Do you realize he may be your only hope not to be sent away?"

Babette atoned her obliviousness to fear. "How so?"

Of all people, Angelique never thought she would be the one to tell her this. Moving to sit cross-legged a la gossip position on the bed, she offered, "I have always been told that things happen for a reason; maybe this is the sign…that you both really are meant to be together."

Babette sighed. "Do not start with that. Whenever the idea of marriage comes along, he changes the subject."

"Perhaps…but does he really have any choice?"

"I can not do that to him," Babette barely breathed the words as she dried her eyes. "As much as I want it, I will not give him an ultimatum like that, or else it will look like I did plan this whole mess."

"Then what are you going to do? What else is there?"

She closed her eyes, petrified. "There is nothing else to do but wait. I…I will tell him; I have to. But whatever he decides…well, it all rests with him now. When they return home, we shall see. I only hope…it is what I want to hear."


	7. Chapter Six: I Bear No Glad Tidings

_Chapter Six: I Bear No Glad Tidings_

Vincent was true to his word. Precisely at daybreak, the small party made the journey home. Much as Lumière tried, he could not think of a better word—or at least a more polite one—than "unbearable" to describe the journey. One minute more of Cogsworth's incessant ramblings, he would have him arrested for attempted murder, as he was prepared to die of boredom.

"…and hence I am positive beyond any belief that you will find nothing horrific whatsoever to report! All of us get through each and every day splendidly, effortlessly, unquestionably hardworking…!"

"I am _certain _that you do!" Jacques quickly replied to conclude, desperately trying to keep his temper calm. Thank the heavens Adele was not there to see this; there would be no end to her taunting laughter if she saw him then. He was anything but a patient man, and she would have applauded him on such a performance.

Giving his horse a kick to move ahead, he commented, none too quietly, "Your servants seem more like friends than staff."

Vincent nodded, a grin playing about his lips. "More like family, you mean; what Cogsworth says is true…"

"That is a first," came Lumière's expected reply and Cogsworth's usual glower while offering the prince his thanks.

"You see?" Vincent continued, gesturing to them both. "Just like a family. One that works hard for the good of everyone."

Jacques nodded, not surprisingly having been associated with his uncle, in disapproval. "Very interesting…allowing servants such rights."

"You do not agree?"

Jacques shook his head. "Heartwarming as it sounds, every servant should know their place, and even being of the highest rank does not bestow the privilege of friendship. All they need is a hint of trust in order to betray you."

Unlike his silent-by-choice comrade, Lumière scowled blatantly indignant. In an exaggeratedly sarcastic fashion, he took to Vincent's other side, bowing, even on a horse.

"Forgive me, master, for not asking permission to speak, but I must. Monsieur de Crochet is rather opinionated. He is not your equal, and therefore in a servant's role himself. Shouldn't he practice what he preaches, and simply do what he has was ordered to do?"

Jacques smirked, practically amused. "Rather hot-headed, this one?"

Cogsworth muttered, "You have no idea."

"That is enough!" Vincent sighed. The last thing he needed was a confrontation with a man who could put an end to everything with a single word, and he immediately shot Lumière a look to keep at bay. "The matter at hand is to continue onward. Differences can be settled once this is complete."

-------

It was already late in the morning by the time Angelique knocked on Babette's door with one hand, balancing a tray on the other. Without waiting for a reply, however, she entered, proudly announcing, "Room service!"

The response came in the form of a groan and Babette tiredly pulling her blanket over her head, but it did not bother her. She closed the door, placed the tray on the tiny dresser, and yanked the blanket off of her friend's head. "That is not going to work. Now get up, you need to eat."

Babette shook her head against her pillow, eyes still closed but her voice revealing that she was very much awake. "You can not make me."

"But you must."

"I do not. My stomach is turning too much, and hungry as I may be, I do not feel like seeing breakfast again in a vile form."

But it was too late; Angelique was already preparing the different items. "That poor baby of yours must be starving, and the only way he or she can eat is if you do." She carried the food over to the bed and sat down. "More importantly, if Lumière sees that you have not been eating, do you know who he will blame first? Of course it will not be you, it will be me; I think he is still convinced that I want to kill you." She handed her a piece of toast. "Now eat this, and ignore any funny tastes. Poison does not have the good old flavor it used to."

Babette laughed gently, appreciative for the humor, and reluctantly surrendered, starting to pick at her toast. "Any sign of them?"

"Not yet, you still have time to think of what you are going to tell him."

It was at the exact moment when Babette sighed relieved that her mood made a swing to fear as they heard shouts in the hallway.

"They're back!" proclaimed Mrs. Potts' son Chip joyfully, in perfect harmony with Sultan's yips and barks. "Everyone hurry! They're back!"

Angelique winced. "May I take back what I said?"

Babette swallowed nervously, feeling even the smallest nitpickings of toast make her stomach stir. "No more jokes…" She reached over and opened her side table drawer to find a note. "Just give him this for me, and tell him that he is not too look for me any sooner than this afternoon."

Angelique nodded, hugging her friend for comfort before leaving to complete her task.

-------

If only he had not been raised to be loyal and obedient, Lumière would have refused to help their guest settle into his room. Normally, he was the first to welcome any newcomer, whether they were visitors or new members to the household, and it bothered him something terrible that this time was different.

As he carried the bags, his mind wandered off on its own. There was something about Jacques that he did not like, but what it was he did not know.

The man had insulted him and the servants with his previous comments, but Lumière had shrugged that aside. Words were hurtful only when one allows them to be.

Jacques de Crochet…he tried to remember where he had heard that name. Babette had mentioned it before…that night of the ball! He could have been related to her former employer…

"Are you just going to leave the bags at the door?" Jacques snapped, forcing Lumière to put his thoughts aside for a moment.

Much as he tried, Lumière could not suppress the look of disdain as he literally dropped the bags in front of the door in the hall. "Oui, monsieur," he replied curtly.

"You do not have any comprehension of what respect is, do you?"

He could not stop his mouth from being careless in his words. "I respect the master I serve, and all he had ordered was that I carry your bags to your room. My work is done. Should you need anything else…hesitate to send for me."

Without waiting for a reply, Lumière turned to leave, abandoning Jacques to finish with his bags. A mere few steps more, he found Angelique waiting for him, a number of papers in her hand.

"Did she give you anything for me?"

"I am doing very well, and you?" Angelique drawled sarcastically, before turning to look at Jacques gathering his things. "And who is the grump over there?"

"Angelique, please! Never mind him, did Babette give you anything for me?"

Neither of them saw Jacques stop to listen.

"All right, all right!" she said, going through the papers and handing him the note. "Mon Dieu, after all I do for you! I barely made this passed Cogsworth, hiding it in all these useless things, and this is how you repay me!"

"And as always, my guardian angel, if it was not for your quick thinking, my half-a-brain would go mad," he said, sweetly gracious as he read.

Angelique smiled. This man did not belong to her anymore, but hearing him sweet talk his way out of her anger still sent chills through her. "You know what time she will be at this mysterious rendezvous?"

"One o'clock."

Angelique nodded, "Très bien, then and no sooner, her orders."

Lumière nodded, returning it again to her care. "Merci, mon ange, you are the best."

As he left her, Angelique raised an eyebrow at the note, filing it back into the papers as she stormed off. "They can not do anything for themselves! Not at all! I have to do ev--"

Not paying attention to where she was headed, Angelique accidentally bumped into Jacques, so hard that she dropped the papers.

"Monsieur, my apologies!" she pleaded, quickly bending down after him as he helped her straighten and gather them back into her hands. "My gratitude for your help…merci! Merci beaucoup!"

Jacques shrugged casually. "I am a gentleman first, mademoiselle; it was no trouble." He returned her smile as she turned to leave, and unclenching his hand, it grew maliciously as he unfolded Babette's note. "No trouble at all."


	8. Chapter Seven: The Truth Lives

_Chapter Seven: The Truth Lives_

Babette fidgeted nervously as she waited in the den, trying to keep her mind on a positive focus. The room held so many memories to reminisce upon. The first day she had come, taking on full responsibility for it. The night of the ball, she had fallen in love with Lumière within these walls. Although it frightened her then, she smiled as she remembered their first kiss. Not coy or unsure, but heated and passionate with every ounce of sensual bliss.

She had refused him then, afraid of her feelings; why could she not have done so a few months ago? Why didn't she say no when she had the chance? He had repeatedly tried to dissuade her until neither his nor her will power could withstand their minds' protest.

Curling up on the chaise, cuddling a pillow close in his place, she bit her lip sadly, allowing her tears to fall. There were no second chances this time around. There was another life, another being to care for, and she moaned pitifully at her selfishness. She could not wait to be one with the man she loved, and therefore, had to accept the hand she was dealt.

Marriage. Babette swallowed fearfully, presently scared of the one thing she had wanted most in the world, to be his and only his forever. Before, it was a dream, the only wish she desired since the spell had ended. Now it seemed more of a requirement, the only solution left in her current condition.

She was bawling so hard that her sobs exhausted her, and she closed her eyes for a moment, not even opening them when she heard the door open and silently click shut behind her. Taking a deep breath, she felt a hand caress her arm, and she reached to grasp it for comfort, falling into slumber.

-------

"I do not see what you are so upset about," Angelique said, going through the papers as she and Lumière rearranged them before anyone noticed they were gone. With a few minutes till his meeting, and always the kind one, he had agreed to help. "He seems like a perfect gentleman."

"You did not have to ride with him, or ignore his snobbish comments while carrying his bags up the stairs," he replied with a sigh. "Perhaps I am being foolish, but there is just something about him that worries me. His name for example—"

Angelique raised an eyebrow. "His _name_ worries you?"

"Yes…I mean no," Lumière groaned in frustration. "I don't know, maybe a little! His last name is de Crochet; that was the family she had worked for before coming here."

Angelique could not resist a tease as she closed more papers into a drawer. "Maybe she _knows _him, yes?"

Lumière glared at her, a single word conveying all that he had to say. "Don't."

She waved another paper as if it were a flag of surrender. "I was joking, but I would not worry so much if I were you. If he is anything like you said, viewing us as things instead of people," she laughed thumbing through the rest looking for the note. "Then you know he will get his in the end from me."

Lumière smirked. "I fear for him." He held out his hand for the note, but only received a confused expression as she repetitively kept going through each remaining paper. "Please say you did not lose it."

"I did not!" she screeched indignantly, attempting her final search to no avail. "All right, I lost it; it must have fallen out when I bounced into Jacques in the hallway."

Lumière paled, white as snow. "Then that means…" Not thinking twice, he raced for the door in a hurried exit.

-------

Babette yawned softly, stretching a bit as she awoke. Rubbing her eyes, she smiled gently. "I am so sorry, mon cher; I have not been sleeping well lately…"

"You never could."

She froze stiffly, keeping her hands over her eyes. That voice…one she had not heard in the longest time…one she prayed she would never have to hear again…

The chaise cushions altered slightly as it expectedly did when someone sat down, and Babette felt two strong hands remove her own to restore her vision. Jacques smiled with adoration. "Mon amour…" He let one hand slide across her forehead to her cheek where it rested in familiar territory. "Mon Dieu, look at you…attractive as ever if not more."

Babette tried to pull away, but his grip still overpowered her own as he held fast to her hand. "I thought I told you that I never—"

"Wanted to see me again?" Jacques finished with a laugh. "My pet, how cliché you have become! What happened to that intense wit of yours?"

"What are you doing here?!" she hissed, angered at not receiving a direct answer.

"Why else would I be here?" he whispered, pulling her close. "I came to take you home."

"I am home."

Jacques leaned in close to her ear, breathing. "Your real home."

Babette shoved him away. "Did you tell the prince the same thing? What was your excuse to him? You quite the talent in that field."

With every jostle she made, she finally noticed that his grip tightened, this time to the point of pain. He nipped at her throat hungrily. "That is none of your concern. All you have to worry, my precious, is that I am kept content while I am here…or else, your master will suffer for it." He growled in a sickeningly blend of anger and lust, "And you know very well what keeps me content, don't you?"

"Get _away_!!"

With every ounce of force she had, Babette managed to free herself, but before she could reach the door, Jacques made one lunge to bring her back to his arms. As his strength outmatched hers, she could do little when he held her to him, roughly stealing the kiss that no longer belonged to him. She struggled as much as she could, stopping when she felt him cease his attack.

Putting her at arms' length, Jacques slowly let his hand drift over her midsection. He knew every inch of this woman's body by heart even after all these years. Any ordinary man off the street could have glanced at her, touched her so intimately, and noticed nothing. This part of her was not the same as it had been before, and as he glowered his eyes deeply into hers, she defiantly returned the favor.

"You…are pregnant?"

"Yes."

At first only disbelief filled his façade, but then silent, terrifying laughter made its way to his throat.

"You little harlot," Jacques murmured tauntingly, "You have finally done it, taken over your family's true business, following in the strumpet shoes of your mother!"

Her right hand launched a direct, crushing smack to the side of his face, but her bravery only earned her an excruciating smashing thrust into the wall as he gripped her shoulders tightly, forcing her to react in tears.

"Do you know who he is?"

Babette sobbed painfully. "I don't know what you mean!"

"Yes you do! Who is he? Who is the whelp's father?!"

Before she could answer, Jacques gasped in shock as he rightfully received a taste of his own medicine. It was his turn to be thrown against the wall, his breaths coming shorter as he felt a grip around his neck, Lumière's hand being the culprit.

"You are looking at him," he snarled to the point where even Babette herself had cringed intimidated. "I do not care _who _you are…or more appropriately, _what _you are, for you are certainly not a man! If you so much as lay one disgusting finger on her again, I will personally see to your execution myself!" Releasing him, and not giving him a moment to breathe, Lumière literally threw him out the door before running to his beloved's side.

Babette never clutched him so close before as she sobbed into his shoulder. "I am so sorry! You should not have found out like this; I should have told you! Mon cher, forgive me, please!"

Lumière gathered her into his arms gently and carried her to the chaise. Rocking her softly, he whispered, "Nothing to forgive…sh-sh-sh…dry your tears, come on. No more of that."

She looked up at him, shaking with fatigue from crying. "It is yours, I swear…!"

"I know, I know; I do not need proof of that," he crooned quietly, doing everything he could to calm her down. It took some time, but the tears slowly came to a halt. Lumière placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before he continued, "But really now, ma plumette, if you wanted to propose yourself, then all you had to do was ask. I did not need such a wonderful gift as this!"

Babette stared at him, allowing his words to piece themselves together in her mind. "What did you say?"

"I said," he began, cuddling her onto his lap. "If you wanted me to marry you, the best way is to ask! I do not need to be spoiled with such wonderful news."

"Stop, I am not jesting…"

"Neither am I." As she took a deep breath, attempting to prevent more tears, he laughed a bit under his breath. "I suppose it is true; expectant women are quite emotional."

Babette continued carefully, praying this was not a dream. "You really mean it? You want to get married…and not just because of the baby?"

"It was a plan of mine, absolutely," he grinned softly as he caressed her middle affectionately. "Our baby is another miracle in addition to you saying yes to the proposal. Will you say it?"

She smiled tearfully. "Ask me properly, and I most certainly will."

Lumière sighed in mock frustration. "Once a tease, always a tease!" For a moment, he seemed to be searching for something, but then looked at his hand where his father's ring, simple but beautiful, rested. "This will work for now." He took it off his own finger and placed it onto hers. "Ma plumette, mon amour… vous fera m'épouse?"

Babette wasted not a second more as she held him close. "Absolument…"

_A/N: Realized as I finished this at about 10 after 5 AM, that this sounds like the end. It's not ) We're over the long stretch but there is still a bit to go, so please stick around )_


	9. Chapter Eight: A Place of Unrest

_Chapter Eight: A Place of Unrest_

If there is one part of a man that should never be tampered with, it is his ego. That solitary possession, when harmed, can turn even the kindest of souls into a deadly threat to one's existence. Lumière had no idea of the mistake he made that day when he severely wounded that delicate part of his newest enemy.

Jacques sat in the silent darkness of his room well into the next few days having sent his excuses to his host. To hell with Auguste, he would get his report in due time; with more important matters at hand, he could wait.

He laughed, appallingly humored. Important matters indeed, the last thing this woman should have been to him now was important, but he could only blame it on human instinct. The selfishness of the human soul causes a man to want everything he cannot have.

Hearing different laughter from outside his window, Jacques rose to pull back the curtain slightly, grimacing at the sight. Babette, along with the other servant girl, he could not remember her name, fussing over the prince's son. He remembered Arnaud mentioning that she had been caring for him; if only he had told him the reason why. She must have needed all the practice she could get.

He threw the curtain back into place, his angered strength nearly tearing them down as he did. Sitting down once more, he continued staring into the darkness.

Damn her…damn them both to hell. His jaw clenched at the mental image of that man's face on her unborn child. Jacques gripped a glass on the table next to him, clutching it tighter with every passing vision he had of her baby bearing that servant's features. The child should have been his…if it was, she would have been at his side today.

From across the room, he heard the door hinges creak, heralding an entrance. He was tempted to throw the glass at the poor soul who dared to enter, but chose not to make a scene that would bring the entire household to his room instead. Glancing over momentarily, his eyes boor into Arnaud's, clearly stating he did not wish to be bothered.

"Begging pardon, monsieur," the guard said quietly. "I see that you prefer to be alone…"

"Then follow that observation," came the harsh, sharp reply.

"But I feel as though I can redeem this interruption with…information." No answer this time. "Information that will prove useful, I'm certain."

"You claimed as much the last few times as well, and managed to leave out a rather important detail with each."

"In all fairness, no one knew she was expecting."

Jacques sighed in frustration and hesitated to ask, but at the same time, he knew there was nothing more to lose. "What is it?"

"Tomorrow, monsieur, is the first day of December."

"I am well aware of the date," Jacques growled, fast becoming impatient.

Arnaud knelt next to where he was seated, as there were no other chairs in the room. "According to what you have told me before, her mother passed on the first and she joined our household a few days later. Both a year before the spell and this last year, she went back to the cemetery to pay her respects. It is a growing tradition for her."

There was a slight pause before Jacques spoke. "Then she will be returning there tomorrow…"

"Indeed."

Jacques pondered the idea. The cemetery…his own grounds and hence the home advantage where he could have the distinct upper hand.

"Point taken," he muttered quietly. "Be ready tomorrow at dawn; we must be gentlemen enough to take her there ourselves, correct?"

Arnaud nodded. "Of course we must."

"Very well, for now you are dismissed." He rose quickly and silently, plotting details as he gathered all he would need for the temporary trip home.

-------

Babette ferociously ran a brush through her hair, a habitual reaction of nerves that revealed fear and anxiety to those few closest to her. From the bed, Lumière rested comfortably watching her at the vanity.

"What is it?" he asked, knowingly.

She placed the brush down and looked at him through her mirror. "I am not going tomorrow."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "When I took you last year, you said you wanted to go every year. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I just…have a bad feeling," she said, gently placing one hand at her middle. But as if trying to convince herself, she added, "Besides…traveling would not be good for the baby, oui?"

Lumière rose and knelt at her side. With a comforting smile, he placed his hand over her own, draping the other around her shoulders. As he leaned to place a gentle kiss into her hair, he said decisively, "You are making excuses."

"I am not."

"Liar."

Babette glanced at his reflection, mockingly wounded at his words, but sighed defeated to admit he was correct. "I simply do not have a good feeling about going."

Lumière rubbed her shoulder affectionately. "I had every intention of going with you again, if that is any consolation."

Babette snuggled into his hold, nuzzling into his neck comfortably. "But of course, we have to tell her together; I would not have it any other way. Just…not now."

He drew her to her feet, gathering her close in his embrace protectively. "He will be here and not even know we are gone; it is safer that way."

She held him tightly, desperately wanting to believe him. "I wish I was as certain as you…but you do not know him. He is a deadly menace, willing to kill—for no reason—anyone that dares to step in his way, and now he knows about us and the baby…"

He led her to the bed, coaxing her to lie down, before she had time to think of anything else. "And I wondered why expectant women cried so much. You do nothing but worry about everything." When she only continued to look at him with fear in her eyes, he rested next to her, drawing first the blanket, then his arms around her gently. "You know me better than that, ma plumette; never when you were in a possible danger would I let anything happen to you. I may be a coward most times, but you and our child mean more to me than life itself."

Babette rested her head against his shoulder. "That is exactly what worries me."

Lumière smiled reassuringly before he reached to douse the flame of the bedside candle with his bare fingers, without so much as a burn. "Get some sleep; we leave early tomorrow."

-------

The clock in the grand front hall rang five o'clock sharp as Babette sat, dressed and ready to move on, while she waited. Moments later, a yawning Lumière and two other men tiredly made their way down the staircase quietly.

Babette groaned annoyed. "What are _they _doing here?"

The young men looked rather indignant at her question. The first was Crane, the elder as well as the shortest with a hint of a moustache; the second was La Plume, the youngest of the four put together, tall and skinny. Both bookkeepers, they were constantly at Vincent's side in times of business while using the rest of the time to inadvertently cause minor mayhem throughout the castle.

Crane pointed to Lumière. "He asked us to come!"

La Plume nodded, "Oui, so blame him if you must."

Her eyes demanded answers as Lumière responded casually and simply, "Just in case."

Babette sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on fast. "Just in case of what? Something goes terribly wrong, they can panic in our place?"

La Plume smiled, saluting tauntingly for the love of getting on her last nerve. Babette was a dear friend, but there was nothing more fun than irritating her to no end. "Indeed, we are very good at that!"

She turned, clearly aggravated, to Lumière, who him gave the death glare in her place. "I hate you for this."

Lumière nodded, "I know, but I could not do better at this hour. Should anything happen, however, we do have help. Now let's hurry, we have quite a ride ahead of us."

-------

At her request, the companion trio remained at the gates, allowing Babette to go inside the resting grounds of the cemetery first alone. This place had never been filled with such tension and fright before, not even in the previous years when Jacques was lurking about the manor nearby. Now, turning at every sound, she felt he could be anywhere, and as the view of the gate and Lumière faded out of sight, she constantly had to remind herself that he was far away at the Chateau Mountains.

It was not until she found the stone she was searching for that she felt somewhat at peace, and she dropped to her knees, reaching to hold it close. This was the only remaining presence of her mother, her solitary bit of family that, lost long ago, and she held fast to it in tears.

"Maman…" she whispered, "You must know by now. I can imagine that you have seen everything that has happened these past few years, and I could almost hear the tears in your voice. I know I should have waited; you always told me that I must, especially after knowing what you had gone through with me.

"But I've brought him here before, and if you have watched, you know that he is a good man. He is not my father; he wants to stay at my side, marry me not in obligation, but love. The eve of the coming year, both you and I can put our fears to rest. My child will have a father, I swear."

"Not if I have any say in that."

Babette spun around instantly, but fell back against the stone as Jacques advanced to keep her still, covering her mouth quickly to smother her screams.

"Do not make a sound that you will regret," he warned quietly. "I do not think you realized the other day how serious a situation you are in, my pet. While it may indeed be a cover, Auguste, uncle to your master, has ordered me to report everything that I have seen, what this new regime of his brings forth. He believes what most of us around here do, just as you yourself did many years ago. You show love, any hint of kindness to anyone…they will betray or abandon you. Look at what your own father did to you! Left your mother to fend for you both! How do you know this man of yours will not do the same?

"On the other hand, all personal accounts aside, I seemed to remember telling you that should you not keep me content, your master shall suffer for it. You may have defied me, Babette, but you do not realize that you have just assisted me as well. I am certain that Auguste would _love_ to hear how this new belief in life calls for recreating it so freely. How your master rules with such a liberal hand that his own servants feel as though they can do as they please would be a most generous bit of news for me to bring him. If that is not the 'chaos' he fears, I do not know what is. But he will believe it should I tell him.

"You may be saving yourself with marriage, my pet…but you have ruined your master. Hope your lover knows another trade should Vincent be dethroned. One never knows," he said with a sickening grin. "You talents in love may be the only thing that can save you as you are so kind to offer it."

Babette fought her way free, glaring at him with such hatred even Jacques almost cringed. "I would not be so sure of yourself if I were you. Our master rules with the most noble heart I have ever known, and his trust in all of us runs deeper than that of anyone else. You do not realize that I have every advantage, people who will vouch willingly in my favor of how, in jealousy, you committed crimes against the royal family, attempting to overthrow them for your own selfish pleasure!"

"But that is a lie."

Babette smirked, twisting his own words against him. "Even if it was, he will believe it should I tell him…"

Jacques scowled at this woman, one that he had once loved, but now wished unto her nothing but revenge for scorning him. Roughly, he grappled her struggling frame before he could reach around to grip her in a dangerously choked hold. "You try my patience. Very well, your prince is safe…but we still have matters left to resolve. You seem to forget how you walked out on your rightful owners long ago."

Babette winced in pain, scarcely able to breathe her words. "I…was dismissed…"

"Adele did not dismiss you, and hence you deserted us. I do not dare attempt to give you the beating a rebel servant deserves; it would not be punishment enough!" His one arm drifted to her midsection and as he pulled up against it harshly, she shrieked in pain. "That would never hurt you as much as you should be, oh no; it would hurt you a lot more to _destroy_ the one thing you care most for…"

He threw her to the ground, finding pathetic pleasure in seeing her writhe. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled a dagger and moved down for the kill. "I would venture to say that this will hurt me more than it does you, my pet, but I try to lie as little as possible…"

His first mistake was to raise his arm into the air, gathering power to bring down the dagger. Having done so made him vulnerable to the counter attack Lumière arrived in time to make.

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear never to touch her again."

Jacques turned on him then, obviously willing and prepared to do battle. "I take orders from no one of your sort!"

With Crane and La Plume at her side, Babette barely managed to open her eyes to watch what unfolded before them. This was anything but a scuffle, weapons drawn on both sides, both contenders willing to fight to the death. With every clash of a blade, whether in their favor of victory or not, she shrieked for them to stop.

It did not take long for Jacques, the experienced fighter he was, to disarm his opponent and literally pin him to a wall, the dagger blade close to the collar of Lumière's neck.

"You fool…" he laughed, pulling another dagger from his cloak. "Breaking a promise to her like this. She swore her child would have a father, and look at you, about to die!"

Lumière said nothing, only looking for any means out of this situation…finding one as he glanced at a torch close by. Fire, it never let him down in the past…

As Jacques had his back to them, La Plume and Crane returned the discreet nod their friend sent them. While La Plume stayed close to Babette's side, Crane quietly reached for a rock, launching a direct hit to Jacques' head. The enemy turned angrily, and stupidly, at him for one moment too long as Lumière reached for the torch, shoving in directly into Jacques' armed hand.

As he screamed in pain, dousing the flame caught at his sleeve with snow, Crane ran to pin him to the ground as Lumière knelt to shake his head disapprovingly at him. "Word of advice, monsieur; if you are going to kill someone, you should just do it. Gloating loses precious time as well as the fight itself."

As the doctor brought fortunate news that Babette and the baby would remain alive and well, Vincent turned threatening eyes on Jacques, bounded in chains, before him.

"If there is one thing I can not tolerate, it is hypocrisy. It is very interesting, monsieur, how meager days ago, you lectured me on how giving trust to those most dear to you was intolerable. You must have been planning to teach us this then, and only now be ready to strike!"

Jacques snarled, fighting against the guards that held him tight. "You will all pay for this in good time; your uncle will surely be displeased…"

"Displeased, indeed! When he hears how you nearly killed an innocent woman and her unborn child, in the name of envy!" Vincent turned to the guards. "He is not under my jurisdiction, nor does he deserve it! Inform my uncle completely of what this man has done, and that I leave the penalty in his hands." Looking once more into Jacques' eyes with utmost authority, he concluded, "Whatever he decides, I demand that he should never allow this man to set foot in my castle again, for he will regret it should he try. Now get him out of my sight."

And with that, all watched the dismissal with hopeful hearts that they would never hear from Jacques de Crochet again.

_A/N: Yes everyone! I finished the story tonight. Rest assured, if you feel this wasn't a grand exit for our villian, he will be back, somewhere, some day, more menacing than ever before. I swear. Thank you all for enjoying the story and your kind reviews, but there is still an epilogue to be read! You've made it this far, so go enjoy the conclusion of Book II, and get ready for the upcoming Book III._


	10. Epilogue: La Petite Chandelle

_Epilogue: La Petite Chandelle_

Patience was constantly a virtue that Lumière prided himself in having, but all other rhyme and reason had vanished hours before. It did not surprise him that this last bit had left his mind as well.

Spring had crept its way amidst the mountain region quickly, bringing with it the very day that he had been dreading most for many months. Where had the days gone? They barely had time to prepare!

He had kept his word to her. At the very stroke of midnight, the beginning of the new year last December, he and Babette shared their first wedded kiss. Just a small gathering of friends in the castle's great hall, tears all around, even from Cogsworth, who attempted to hide them under his "disapproval". "We will never hear the end of it now!" he had said.

The constant worry as their child grew, Babette with it.

"It", Lumière hated using that term, and wished they could have known what the baby would be. A boy, the very image of himself, poor Cogsworth's greatest nightmare, or a girl, exquisite like her mother that would she be courted by young men who were just like him, his own terrifying concern. He was certain to lose sleep no matter what, either by his comrade's complaints about his son or having to guard his daughter's bedroom window all night.

But he still, to this day, could not explain how his fears suddenly vanished the moment he heard the most blissful sound in the world…his child's first cry. Bolting for the door, he nearly fell in as Mrs. Potts opened it from the other side.

With her comforting smile, she moved aside to let him in. "Both of your ladies are waiting for you."

He could only imagine how incredibly ridiculous his smile must have looked as he asked, "It is a daughter then?" She nodded before reminding him to go inside which he did obediently.

Lumière cautiously approached the bed as if doing so would ruin everything, but nonetheless, he sat in the nearby chair beside it, watching the doctor attend to the baby. Babette had never looked so exhausted, but yet so happy as she opened her eyes.

Grinning, she stated proudly but breathless, "It is a girl…"

He laughed gently as he leaned in to kiss her. "So I heard. I am quite fond of women, and thus am very happy to hear that."

"Thought you would be."

The doctor joined them then, returning the child to her mother's care. While he had scolded Babette months before, he regretted it now, not able to resist the charming sight. "My congratulations to you both. She is a vision."

"But of course," Lumière smiled. "This woman is her mother; she must be beautiful."

Nothing is as special, they realized, as the first glance from their first-born. While they knew she had existed, she was still more like a state of mind, an unwrapped gift, until now. As she was held snuggly in her mother's arms, she had at last become a stunning reality.

"I never thought I would be able to witness so many miracles in one lifetime," Lumière whispered as he held his beloved close to him, not able to take his eyes from his daughter.

"I know," Babette agreed, rocking her gently to calm her cries. "She's wonderful…my thanks to you."

"More to you, amourette; you did most of the work. But while I could not be more grateful, there is still one question remaining."

"What is that?"

"What shall we call her?"

Babette looked at her thoughtfully. "Well…you were the first light of my life, and she is the next."

Lumière laughed gently. "A little candle then…"

She nodded. "La Petite Chandelle…"

With a final glance of agreement into each other's eyes, Lumière and Babette smiled down at their child, the loving consequence of their feelings for one another.

"Chandellina."

_**The End**_


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